MUTE
by Li of the Spade
Summary: My name was Vizi Alvarado. I came from a good home. I had a mom and a dad. No complaints there. It was when the "things" happened that I started to become "crazy", as they said. It wasn't crazy that I had been. It was powerful. I guess you could call it "mind control," but it was, all in all, control.


_MUTE: A Batman Fanfiction_  
_TW: gore, mentions of injected medical drugs_

"What are you doing out of your cell? How did you get out?"

I didn't respond to the guard who oh so roughly pulled me up off of the soft, soft grass. I naturally couldn't. I didn't have a voice. So I just went along with him silently, wondering what they'd deem as a worthy punishment this time. My dark skin was sure to have a bruise with how hard I was being pulled, but you couldn't tell from the features on my face. I never showed smiles, or even frowns for that matter. All they saw was the pale mask that had been sewn into my skin. Nowadays everyone was sure it had grown into my face. Others believed I had different ones, due to the changing symbol that covered my lips.

"Get in there, and _stay_ in there," the guard commanded, shoving me onto the bed of the pink padded room I called home. I looked around as the door closed, seeing if I could locate anything to entertain myself. My hand ran through my reddish brown mess of hair as I silently huffed. Of course I wouldn't have anything in here. Nothing but a small purple stuffed rabbit. That was it.

Now, dear reader of my tale, you are probably wondering who I am and what I had done to have my very own pillow room at the one and only Arkham Asylum. No? Well, I'll tell you anyway. For the sake of a good introduction.

My name was Vizi Alvarado. I came from a good home. I had a mom and a dad. No complaints there. It was when the things happened that I started to become "crazy", as they said. It wasn't crazy that I had been. It was powerful. I could manipulate people, even without sound. I guess you could call it "mind control," but it was, all in all, control.

It all started with that one girl in school who would never shut up. About her family's wealth, and how she already had a car at fifteen. About how much prettier she was than anyone else. Truth be told, I was so much prettier than her. I had wanted to tell her off many times, but I couldn't. So, one day, the weirdest thing had happened…

_ "__And then I Spilled the spaghetti all over her. That outfit was done for, anyway." I listened to her drone on and on. She kept talking, and talking. All about how she had showed insert person here up and how she proved she was so much better. I sat a few seats away, but I couldn't seem to block her out. She eventually pointed to me. "And her. What is _with_that get-up?" My head shot up. she was talking about my outfit. I was wearing a normal T-shirt and jeans. It didn't really bug me, until she went on._

_ "And she doesn't even talk! She just sits there like a lump." I narrowed my eyes, my mouth setting at a straight line. She started to go on, but suddenly stopped. She was looking straight at me with glazed over eyes, like a zombie. She wasn't dead, I knew, cause I could hear her screaming on the inside._

_** "**__**You need to watch who you talk about."**__There was a loud voice, but those were my thoughts. It couldn't have been _my_voice, though… Could it? My eyes widened in surprise as I watched her fumble through her own mind, which seemed to be bound by chains. __**"**__**Just because someone can't use their words doesn't mean that they can't hurt you. And, oh chica, you shouldn't slam your head on the desk so hard. You'll break that pretty little face."**__Before I could register what I was sure was me saying, her face was repeatedly being smashed into her desk. Repeatedly. It looked like someone was grabbing the back of that pretty blonde hair and beating her senseless, but there was no one near her. The rest of the class was huddled along the wall, screaming. Another boy was trying to get the door open, but it wouldn't budge. I'd assume the teacher was in the bathroom, since they were nowhere to be seen._

I watched this whole scene go on for about two minutes, but it felt so quick. There was blood all over the desk and floor, and I knew if this didn't stop, she would die. But, another part of me asked, would that be a bad thing? I started to look at the others, who looked at me as though I was a monster. They hadn't heard the voice I did, or the girl's screaming, but they knew this was my fault. Suddenly, the voice in my head screamed for a stop, and everything went quiet. The kids stopped screaming, and the girl fell on the floor. Whether she was dead or alive, I couldn't decipher. I slowly stood up as the door swung open, causing the kids to flood out. I looked at the sight before me, and took a step back , almost tripping over the desks. I opened my mouth to let out a scream, but, naturally, nothing came out. Just a sound of breath. I watched about three teachers and the principal run in, and just stare. One of them hurled right there. I looked over at them, quickly starting to try to explain.

** I didn't even touch her..** I tried to sign, but my hands were shaking too much.

_ Of course I was to blame. It was my fault, anyway. I was sent to a children's ward for Arkham. I was only fifteen at the time. I wasn't let out until I was seventeen._

Now, Obviously _something_ happened for me to end up back here. I was eighteen when I went back, but what for was kept a secret, even from me. What I believe is that they tried to keep my powers bottled up for so long, until it just kind of… exploded. Many might have died. I don't really know. They wiped my memory with the stupid "headband" they make me wear. It was a metal band that had special technology to block brainwaves, and monitor my thoughts. They put it on whenever they believed the medication was wearing off. The medication made it hard to think… Well, it made it hard to use enough of my brain to control others. It made me feel normal, honestly.

After the long period of random thought in my cell, I ended up falling asleep in the room. I told myself I'd dream of good things. That was a Lie. I don't dream. There's nothing but black. Even so, my days are much worse than my nights.


End file.
